What Else Could Go Wrong?
by Cassidy05
Summary: After the death of her fiancé, Kelly is slowly falling apart. When the NCIS team gets involved, everything changes again. For better or worse, she's not really sure. Tony/OC.
1. Chapter 1

The meaning of life, something people ponder every day. I have thought about it myself, lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, watching the shadows bend and change as night turns to day and day turns to night. I wondered what meaning my life had. I once had purpose; meaning. But just like everything else in the world, it crumpled before it could be fulfilled. That changed just like the seasons, just like the weather. One day- that's all it took; one day for it all to change.

I rolled over in bed and stared at the clock, watching as the red numbers changed. My thoughts kept going back to two months ago, months that I would rather forget. I squeezed my eyes shut; shoving the heels of my hand into them, hoping that the pain would allow me to momentarily forget. Temporarily forgetting was easy- all you had to do was either inflict pain on yourself or take a rather long nap. I've been going for the latter which was one of the reasons I was holed up in my room.

I heard the sound of dishes being placed in the dishwasher and knew my dad was up. Funny though, I don't think I heard him at all while I've been staying here. I ran my fingers through my oily brown ragged locks and sat up. The room spun around me at this sudden movement that I could guess that staying in bed for two months was definitely not good on my body. I grabbed my light pink robe off the back of the door and slipped it on. I made my way downstairs to find my dad drinking his morning cup of coffee, paper in hand. Hearing my arrival, he glanced up and smiled.

"Morning, Kelly, how are you?" My father, Jeffery, asked as if this was normal, like nothing had ever happened.

I took a seat at the island and glanced out the window, loving the scenery change. "I've been better; don't think I can sleep anymore and staying in that room will drive me stir crazy. I'm trying to cope though." I added as an afterthought.

"I'm glad, sweetheart." He said, smiling as he looked at his watch. "I have to go. Megan called by the way, and she's worried about you. You know that people care for you and worry about you every day."

"I know dad, it's just so hard to… I'll give her a call."

"That's all I ask." He said, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead before he left. I watched as he left, making his way toward his car and I was brought back to the moment when I was younger and I had just experienced my first break up; guess somethings never change.

I glanced at the phone that lay on the counter top before me and wondered if today was the first step toward recovery. My doctor told me that I need to accept the facts and move on; calling Megan would help with that. I picked up the phone and dialed Megan's number; I allowed it to ring a couple of time before I hung up, losing my nerve. I stared at it again, flicking the antenna and wondering what I was doing. I clearly wasn't ready to go through with this. I picked the phone up again and didn't hang up this time. It wasn't that I was scared of Megan, I was scared of the questions she would ask and I was scared that she would bring up… Marcus.

"Hello?" Megan asked, her voice sounding a bit scratchy over the phone.

"Hey, Megan." I said hesitantly.

"Kelly! How are you?"

I gave a shrug despite the fact that she couldn't see it. "I've been better, ever since-" I broke off, my voice catching, almost close to tears.

"I know," she said softly. "I know. I've been worried about you, thinking of you too."

"I'm sorry, Megan, I'm just not myself."

"Do you want to hang out, to talk about it?"

"I don't know, I'm just… I don't know."

"It's okay Kelly; I'm here if you need me."

I paused for a moment, was it a smart idea to stay in my room and wallow in my misery day in and day out because that won't bring him back. I need to stop this pity party and leave this house, at least for an hour.

"Megan, I need to get out of the house today."

"Okay," Megan said a bit surprised at the sudden change of plans. "I'll pick you up in ten minutes."

"Give me thirty."

"Alright then. Oh, and Kelly?"

"Yes?"

"Don't be afraid, there are people here who care about you."

"My dad said the same thing this morning."

"He's right."

"I'll see you soon."

I set the phone down and wondered if this was the right thing. I was starting to doubt myself and the decision I just made. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of any changes I would make. I headed upstairs hoping that I wouldn't chicken out of doing something normal. I managed to take a shower and changed into clothes other than the pajamas I had been wearing all in the thirty minutes that Megan would pick me up. I heard the car horn beep and grabbed my purse from the floor before I went out the door. Megan was standing outside her car looking at my house and I could only imagine she was thinking about all the times we had at this house, the good, the bad and the unimaginable. I locked the doors and stepped down the step where Megan engulfed me in a hug.

"Hey, you look good." Megan said stepping back and taking a good look at me.

"For a dead girl," I mumbled.

"You're not dead, just very pale. That's what happens, you know."

She was right. I had managed to catch a look at myself in the mirror right before I left and saw I looked like crap. My hair was oily and had split ends; I had bags underneath my sapphire blue eyes and, like she pointed out, I was pale, real pale.

"I feel dead."

Megan rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's go, I bet you're hungry."

At the mention of food, I realized I was starving, I guess it had to do with the fact that I hadn't eaten much when I was in 'solitude'. I got in the car and waited for Megan. Megan and I had been there for each other since I could remember; she has been there for me through it all. She's the sister I always wanted but never had due to the problems between my parents.

"I'm glad you finally left your room. It will do you some good to get some fresh air, some sunshine."

"It's good to be out." I lied. Truth was I wanted to curl up in bed and go back inside but I knew that Megan would continue to call me until I left my room, or she came and pulled me out. Yeah, she would do that.

We arrived at the nice little diner that Megan and I always went to on the weekends so we could get some nice food rather than the cheap crap our parents feed us or in my case my dad. Megan's parents weren't ever home so she ate at my house most nights and my dad isn't known for his cooking, let me tell you. Now, my mom, on the other hand, she could cook. She left us when I was ten, saying she didn't like how my father spent so much time at work and not with her or the family. They got a divorce three months later, my dad gained custody of me and she walked out; never even fought for me. I have never forgiven her for that, not for fifteen years, and I don't think I ever will.

We headed inside and took a seat in our usual booth, close to the bathroom but far enough in the back that no one could overhear us. I picked up the slick menu and glanced at my options; see if anything had changed since the last time I was here. By the looks of it, they hadn't. The waitress appeared, a petite little thing wearing a 50's ensemble to go with this establishment.

"What can I get you guys?" She asked gnawing on her gum like she was a damn cow, I mean really?

"I'll have a Belgium waffle and some hash browns with a diet coke." I said glancing out the window noticing that the sun had disappeared behind dark clouds that promised rain.

"I'll have some pancakes with bacon and scrambled eggs with an orange juice." Megan said smiling at the waitress, hoping she'd leave.

The waitress scribbled it all done and headed toward the kitchen.

"Since I've been MIA, what's been going on?" I asked.

"Well Scott and I are still dating. We even got our own apartment together."

"Really?"

A slight blush crept to Megan's face 'til it was almost red. "Yes, we're happy together. I love him."

"That's good, Megan, I'm happy for you. I know that I can't be happy, not right now any way but that doesn't mean that you have to be unhappy for me."

"Marcus was our friend too, he went to our school, he left and came back for you, and I know you're hurt, but stop pushing us away."

Oh how wrong she was, okay she was entirely wrong but that statement was shit. "It's not that simple."

"Really, because I'm pretty sure that it is; you see, you either wallow away in the pain till you barely recognize yourself or you let the people that love you, take care for you, help you get back on your feet."

I watched the rain pound against the window and wondered why Megan was being so callous. Sure, I was being emotional and was pushing everyone away but why did she have to push me toward the one thing I wasn't quite ready for.

"Megan, please," I said, tears springing to my eyes. "This is so hard, I've tried my best to be strong but those only worked for so long and look what happened to me- I broke down. He's gone, Meg, and I'm never going to see him again. Never going to kiss him again. We aren't going to get married and start a family. Do you expect me to take the things as they are and be 'oh he's gone let's go date again?' No I'm not ready I don't know if I'll ever be ready." I said, the tears falling down my face like the rain on the widow. "I can't do this, he…he's…he's… everything to me." I said, crying.

"I know but you have to get over it sometime, otherwise you won't be living, you'll have a life with nothing to look forward to."

"I have stuff to look forward too, a life where I'll be waiting to go join him; I'm never going to forget him."

"I'm not asking you to forget him; I'm asking you to move on. Marcus wouldn't want you to live a life where the only perk is the end. He'd want you to find someone else; someone who loves you like he loved you."

The waitress returned with our food and placed them in front of us, either ignoring my tears or never noticing them; I bet she was use to such things. It wasn't the first time I broke down in a restaurant and I knew it wouldn't be the last either. I hastily wiped my tears and looked away, hoping to save some of my dignity. We thanked the server and began to eat in silence. I was trying my best not to cry again and I think Megan was trying her best not to tell me to leave my room.

"You'll get through it, Kelly. Your dad's here for you, I'm here for you and so is Scott."

"I know, Megan, I know."

It was awkward after that. We both didn't say much and kept away from the question that had anything to do with Marcus. We finished our meals, each stuffed with how much we ate and I was nursing a headache that had sprung up from nowhere. Our waitress returned and Megan and I split the bill, each placing down a ten, telling her to keep the change.

"Do you want a ride home?" Megan asked, sliding from the booth.

I shook my head. "I'm going for a walk; I have to get things figured out."

"Call me, okay?" She asked, giving me a hug before leaving.

I walked out the door and noticed that it was still raining but I didn't care, I was past caring. I walked down the street and noticed that people were quickly walking down the road hoping to get to their destination without getting totally soaked and others walked with their umbrellas, hailing a taxi. I was hoping the rain could clear my head from the question that were asked and the statements that she had given. I wasn't mad at Megan, but I had to come to an agreement with myself. Something needed to be done, that was for damn sure. But what?

Each face that passed me looked like him, he was everywhere and I couldn't shake the feeling that came with it. I shook my head; this was ridiculous. I was slowly losing it. I needed to get away from the crowd that seemed to push me forward and suffocate me. I began to run. I ran past the people that were around me, not knowing where I was going, to the point where I was colliding into people and causing them to drop their things. I was too far gone to even realize this. So far, being among people wasn't working for me. I hailed a taxi and told them the directions to my doctor's building; she was the only one who could help me right now.

~/~/~/~

I stepped out of the taxi and made a mad dash for the door, trying to dodge the rain drops that fell, impossible task if you thought about it. I stood in the waiting area, shaking from the cold air, the secretary looked at me wondering if she had to call security and have me escorted out. I approached her and tried to give my best smile but knew it came out as more of a grimace.

"I'm here to see Doctor Nash."

"Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked, not looking up.

"No, but-"

She cut me off before I could finish. "The Doctor's busy and if you don't have an appointment then I can't fit you in."

I leaned forward and trying my best not to strangle this incompetent woman. "Look here, Miss… Franklin, Lindsey expects me to come in at odd hours, today is not uncommon. Why don't you call her, see what she says."

I watched as she picked up the phone in her nicely manicured hands and pressed the extension button that fed directly to the Doctor's phone. "Hey Lindsey, there's a woman out here that says you expect her at odd hours. A Miss…"

"Miller. Kelly Miller." I supplied for her.

"Miller. Says her first name is Kelly. I told her you were bus-"

I felt a smile rise to my face as the woman got put in her place, I couldn't hear what Lindsey was telling her, but I knew she was grilling her for her incompetence. Finally the woman set down the phone and gave me a forced smile.

"She will see you now."

I thanked her and walked into Lindsey's office, a nice little room with a fire place to help keep it warm in the winter. It was burning brightly, a leather chair sat in front of it and I knew that in her spare time Lindsey would sit there and read a new psychology book.

"Ah, Kelly, nice of you to stop by." Lindsey said, rising from her desk. "Sorry about that, she's new. Here, take a seat. What's the problem this time?"

I let out a sigh as I took a seat on the loveseat. "I had breakfast with my friend Megan today and she approached the topic of Marcus, but when I left the restaurant I thought I saw him."

"Are you taking your medicine?"

"Yes, but it doesn't affect me the same way anymore."

"I would give you a higher dosage, but I'm afraid of what could happen. You could keep a journal when you feel yourself slipping and when you come back, we can talk about it."

I sat there and stared at the fire that was crackling each time a different part of the log caught on fire.

"Have you talked to anybody else about Marcus besides me or your father and obviously Megan?"

"No, I don't have that many friends. I don't keep in touch with that many people."

"Well then, why don't you tell me a bit about him?"

I glanced at the doctor, wondering why she was asking me this question; I had already answered it a week ago. "You already know, Doctor."

She smiled. "Yes, but it's good to talk about it."

I let out a weary sigh; it already seemed like a long day and it wasn't even noon yet. "Marcus was in the military; the marines. He went to Iraq a year ago, it wasn't till he was ten months in that he got to head back home, I didn't really mind I was in school. We spent the week together, just the two of us. He went back on Sunday and so did I. It was probably a week after he left that I was told he wasn't coming home."

"You're handling it pretty well."

I let out a bitter laugh. "If by better you mean I'm taking medicine and holing myself up in my room, then I'm fine."

"You know that's not what I mean. Anybody who asks will say that to you. You know that."

I did, I had studied phycology before. "I do."

"Good, well why don't you do the journal idea and then come back on Thursday. If you have problems, you know I'll be here."

I stood up and thanked Doctor Nash before leaving the office and heading home, which was me walking down for a block or two before getting a taxi.

~/~/~/~/~/~/~

I arrived home wet and exhausted. The weather had been brutal to me but it brought me to answer questions that I had been avoiding for far too long. Megan was right, I had to move on, get on with my life.

I headed upstairs and changed out of my sopping clothes into a pair of my favorite baby blue yoga pants and a matching tank. I glanced around the room and found what once was neat and orderly was now a pigsty. Clothes lay in crumpled heaps on the floor. There were dishes that once contained food scattered around on every flat surface, there was even the occasional apple. Something had to be done about the mess.

I spent the majority of the day picking up my room and then moving on to the house when that task was completed. I even started a load of laundry. I was doing normal things again, I didn't know if this was a big step or a tiny step that would bring me to the same results. Maybe I was over analyzing the situation or under analyzing. Should I- the sound of the phone startled me out of my mental debate with myself.

"Hello?" I asked picking it up.

"Hey there, sweetheart. I'm going to be a little late tonight so don't bother waiting up."

"You never called me before to tell me you were staying late."

"I know, but I didn't want you to worry."

"Thanks, Dad. Don't work yourself too much. I expect you home at some point."

"Tomorrow, I'll try and be home. No promises. Sleep tight, sweetheart. I love you."

"Love you too."

I hung up the phone and climbed into bed, the day's activities finally catching up to me.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Tony

I walked into the office and slung my backpack into the corner of my desk and took a seat.

"Good morning Tony," McGee said happily.

"Hello there McGoo, why so chipper?" I asked glancing at him, noticing the smile plastered on his face.

Timothy McGee was the computer genius of our team; he knew tons of things about computers and could hack faster than anybody I've ever known. Though I don't know that many people who are as savvy around a computer as he was. I had a feeling that probably had to do with the fact that he had attended MIT and has a degree in biomedical engineering from Johns Hopkins University,

"I had a date last night." He boasted.

"Oh come on McGee, warlocks aren't considered dates."

"It was a girl Tony. We had dinner an-"

"And then went back to your place to play video games?" I finished for him.

"Why do you always question the girls Tim dates?" Ziva commented from her desk.

Ziva David was a former Mossad Liaison Officer and knew how to kick your ass more ways than one. She also spoke a variety of different languages, and could easily adapt to any situation. In many ways I could tell what McGee was thinking, but I was always in the dark on what she was.

Of course there was our fearless leader Leroy Jethro Gibbs who was a retired Marine, had three ex-wives and isn't much of a social person. He doesn't show any emotion, beside the occasional smile to a one Abby Sciuto, and has a set of rules that may seem silly, but prove to be useful.

"Because what lady in her right mind would want to date Probie Won Kenobi?"

"I bet you're just jealous that I had a date last night and you didn't."

"How do you know I didn't?" I challenged as I busied myself with the files on my desk.

"Allow him to be McGee; he's always grumpy in the morning." Ziva explained.

I took a piece of paper off my desk, and crumpled it up and threw it into the bin that stood near McGee's desk. Each ball went in, in rapid succession of each other.

"Would you stop, I'm trying to write a case report."

"What case?"

"The Anderson case."

Ah, the Anderson case. I was right about the widow, especially since she got such a big health benefit from her husband's death.

"Don't you have something to do?" Ziva asked.

"No, today's a slow day."

"Well please find something to do." Ziva pleaded.

"Fine."

I logged on to my computer and began to flip through pictures of ESPN's swimsuit models. Man did they look good. Got to love the swimsuit edition of ESPN, the one time girls lather up and wear skimpy clothing. Okay not the only time; there was still playboy.

I glanced at the clock and saw I had two more hours and I would be able to leave for the day. I would head back to my apartment and watch Magnum PI reruns, a cold beer in hand. That would be my Sunday night. I wasn't quite in the mood for a date, where I would pretend to be interested in some of the same things she was. It was tiresome and some of them weren't even good in bed.

I glanced at the clock again and saw that only an hour had past. How could I waste the last hour of the work day? I had looked over all the swimsuit models, and even warped two images together. My day was pretty much made after that point. I could throw more paper balls into the trash can again but it wouldn't be as much fun since McGee had left for the head. I let out a weary sigh and stared at my computer screen hoping that it might make time go by faster.

"Have you guys seen Gibbs?" McGee asked.

"No. I haven't seen him all day. If you're done with your report, set it down on his desk." I said still looking at my screen.

Wait, Gibbs wasn't here. I could leave. I picked up my backpack and got up ready to leave when Gibbs strolled in a cup of black coffee in hand. Well shit.

"Going somewhere DiNozzo?" He asked taking a seat at his desk.

"Not at all, Boss." I replied taking a seat.

I watched as he flipped open McGee's case reports and began to read it. The last hour was going to be hell.

The sound of Gibbs' phone rang out into the silent bullpen and I felt my muscles tense, ready to grab my bag and head downstairs to investigate something, anything to get me out of this building. Gibbs answered his phone and glanced toward the director's office before hanging up. He picked up his coffee and headed upstairs. I watched as he left and wondered what the director wanted. I hope it wasn't anything bad; I didn't want to be transferred to a Navy ship again. I glanced toward McGee and saw him looking at me with a questioning look on his face. I merrily shrugged my shoulders and got back to work. I think I had a case report around her somewhere that I had to get finished. I flipped through my desk looking for the file and came up empty. Huh, that's weird; I know I didn't do it or give it to Gibbs. So where the hell was it?

"Looking for something?" Ziva asked appearing in front of me.

"I was, but that can wait. Do you know what Vance wants?"

Ziva gave me a pointed look. "How would I know, he and I aren't buddy buddy."

"Wish you were; I would give anything to be a fly on that wall."

"Why would you want to be a fly?"

"It's a saying that means—never mind."

"What Tony is trying to say is, he wants to know what's going on." McGee explained.

"Then why didn't he just say so?"

I opened my mouth to argue with her but thought better of it, she wouldn't understand. English was a hard language and even I had difficulty with it at times. I glanced at the clock and noticed that the work day was over and that I could leave, but something about Vance and Gibbs talking had me staying in my seat and being the best NCIS agent ever.

It was probably five minutes or so before Gibbs came down the stairs, a slight scowl on his face. Though he always seemed to have some sort of frown on his face, this one was different. This was a face of a man who was just told what to do and Gibbs wasn't known for following the rules, unless of course they were his own.

"DiNozzo, McGee what are you still doing here?" He asked.

"Waiting on you, boss." I replied.

"The days over, go home, get some rest. Tomorrow won't be so easy."

I grabbed my backpack off the floor and said good-bye to Gibbs and McGee as I headed toward the elevator. Magnum here I come.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Kelly

I stared out the window, watching as birds swooped down to grab something to eat or evade their partner as I absently stirred my coffee. It had been a long night for me; I hadn't fallen asleep till three and woke up gasping two hours later. I tried going back to sleep, but sleep had eluded me yet again. I don't even remember why I gasped; I don't think I was dreaming, at least I don't remember doing so. All I remembered was darkness and a buzzing noise and then I was up. I let out a sigh and wondered what my dad was doing at... quick peak at the clock told me seven am. Great, I was up at seven on Monday. I had nothing to do, no plans, no job and basically no life. I let out a silent groan as my head slowly fell on the island. I needed sleep, it was good for me. Maybe if I was tired enough later I would be able to fall asleep but then my schedule would be messed up fro-

The sound of the phone ringing in the other room startled me out of my thoughts. I trudged into the living room, scooping the phone from the coffee table as I answered it.

"Hello?" I asked wearily.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you?" he asked, sounding a bit tired himself, like he hadn't slept in days and knowing him, he hadn't.

"I'm fine dad. What's up?" I asked collapsing on the sofa, massaging my temple.

"I'll be home tonight, they're sending me home. Saying I need my sleep" he chuckled. "I have to agree with them on that."

"Should I expect you for dinner?"

"I should be home by then."

"Alright. I'll make you some dinner then." I said heading back toward the kitchen wondering what we had.

I began to rummage through the pantry looking for something that we could have but came up empty. There wasn't much you could make with cranberries and gravy.

"Dinner would be fantastic; it's been awhile since I've had a good home cooked meal."

"I can tell." I mumbled. "Do you want anything specific for dinner?"

"Surprise me."

"I can do that. I'll see you later then."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

I hung up the phone and grabbed my purse off the counter, heading toward my car. I was half way out the door when I realized I was still in my pajamas. I ducked back inside and trudged upstairs. I rummaged around in my purse till I found my wallet and phone and set them down on the table. I slipped out of pajamas and into some jeans and a turtleneck. I shoved a pair of boots over top of my wool socks and stuffed my phone and wallet into my pocket; I didn't really need a purse it would only make things harder to carry. I headed back downstairs and locked the front door before getting into my car to grab some food for dinner.

~/~/~/~

I arrived at the grocery store in less than five minutes later. It wasn't far from my house; I could actually walk there if I wanted to, but walking home was difficult when you had your hands full of groceries. I never liked grocery shopping but it had to be done. My method was head down each aisle and grab what you need and nothing extra. Today was no different. I was probably the fastest grocery shopper ever, it took me less than twenty minutes to grab everything and get to the checkout counter. That's when when I get slowed down. People buy tons of food to last them a month so ringing them up took forever. I tapped my foot impatiently, I was in no mood to stand here and watch item after item be scanned, making that high beeping sound, one that reminded me of my dream. Finally it was my turn, all my items were on the conveyer belt and all I needed was the guy to ring me up then I could go home and sleep. I glanced out the window and noticed that the grocery store was a bit quiet today which was surprising. I knew it was Monday, but most of the stay at home moms where buying their groceries. I did notice, however, some moms walking in with their three year old son or daughter looking like they wished they had left them at home.

I was smiling at one particular little boy with a head full of brown curls and had three fingers in his mouth the other hand holding his mothers, when I noticed the man behind them. He was wearing a navy blue New York Yankee's hat, a windbreaker over top of a marine shirt with a pair of jeans that seems to hug his hips. The man glanced at me and I could have sworn he was Marcus. I would remember those hazel green eyes anywhere. He smirked at me before following the woman farther into the store. I watched him leave and didn't notice the cashier trying to get my attention.

"Ma'am, are you alright?" The young boy asked.

I gave him a small smile. "I'm fine." I swiped my debt card, signed the receipt, grabbed my bags and left. This wasn't happening; I was losing it. That was more like Marcus then Marcus himself. I need professional help and there was only one person who could help me.

~/~/~/~

I sat at the same love seat I sat in yesterday, staring up at the tiled ceiling trying to block out the image of the man I saw in the store. It was hard since it brought back all the emotions I was trying hard to forget; love, desire, sadness and most of all: desperation. I wish I would rewind the clock and go back two months ago; everything was so much simpler.

"Kelly, I thought I said I'd see you Thursday." Lindsey said, a bit startled.

"You did, I just had to tell someone about what happened." I said wringing my hands.

"Alright," she looked at her watch "I have some time but then I have to get to another client who needs me as well."

"I'll try and be quick." I let out a deep breath, trying to collect myself. "I saw him today, I know, I did. I know he's dead but I swear I saw him. He was wearing a Yankee's baseball cap, they were his favorite team." I smiled at the memory of Marcus taking me to a baseball game. I wasn't an extreme fan like he was, but I enjoyed it, just cause I was in his company. "He smiled at me like he knew I was looking at him, like he knew who I was. It was unnerving. He's supposed to be dead."

Lindsey let out a weary sigh. "Kelly, I've been trying to be delicate but you have to realize that Marcus is dead. He won't be coming home. You attended his funeral, your father can attest to that. That's why you're here; you remember you were hysterical at the funeral. You keep coming in here saying you've seen him and the first stage of depression is denial, you were denying that he was actually dead. I thought that these last couple weeks we've been getting somewhere. You stopped mentioning you saw him up until yesterday. I took that as stress and Megan bringing up fresh memories about him, but now? This wasn't stress or a delusion." I watched as Lindsey pinched the bridge of her nose and noticed for the first time the dark circles that were forming under her eyes.

"Are you okay?'

"When you're a therapist you forget about your own problems. Kelly, you should go home and rest, you look tired like you had a rough night and maybe that's why you think you saw him. If you think you see him again, come in and I'll try and get you something that can help you."

I thanked Lindsey and headed out the door, liking the idea of sleep. That's exactly what I needed.

~/~/~/~

I pulled my car up into the drive way and noticed that it looked eerily quiet. Then again I hadn't left the house for quite a while and maybe that's why I had this gut retching feeling like something was wrong. I grabbed the groceries from the car and made my way inside. The uneasy feeling I felt in the car didn't leave me when I set the groceries on the island, noticing that my coffee cup from this morning was no longer on the island, but was in fact in the sink.

"Dad?" I called out into the silent house, hoping that he was the one who moved my cup.

"Dad?" I called again.

Nobody answered; the house was silent. Nothing could be heard but the sound of my feet on the wood floors. I slowly crept toward the living room, looking for anything else that was out of place, but nothing seemed bumped or moved. I slowly opened the study door and saw someone sitting in the armchair opposite of the desk.

"Sir?" I asked, slowly approaching the chair. "Are you okay?"

I placed a hand over my mouth when I saw what was before me. The man was tied up in the chair, the rope wrapping around his torso and his arms and legs, keeping them in place. He was bleeding from slit marks on his wrists and other parts of his body and on to the nice Persian carpet. Attached to the body was a note that read:

_Kelly,_

_I see you found our little gift. We have your father, contact anyone and we'll send him back in little bitty pieces. We'll be watching._

_ JM_

_P.S. Instructions about the body will arrive shortly._

I slowly backed away, not wanting to disturb the crime scene, till I bumped into the wall. I noticed my hands were shaking and the note was wrinkled from my clenched fingers. I slid down the wall till I was sitting on the floor looking at the back of his head. I dropped my head in my hands and wondered what was going on. That man was dead; his wrists were evident to that. Why was he dead? Why was he in my house? Where was my dad? I had so many questions running through my head, I thought it would explode. I slowly brought my hands away from my face and noticed a red blinking light reflecting off the window. I slowly got up and went toward it, my curiosity taking the better of me. I let out a gasp as I realized the device pointed toward the study was in fact a video camera, wireless from the looks of it. So they were keeping tabs on me, cute. I took my cell phone out of my pocket and twirled it in my hand. I had to get some picture of that body before I was told to move it.

I slowly walked toward the study, keeping the phone in front of me so they wouldn't see what I was really doing. I managed to snap as many pictures as I dared, pretending I was looking for a cell signal to send a text message. I let out a sigh and closed the phone before shoving it into my pocket. I headed toward the kitchen, praying they bought my frustration about the cell phone. As I passed through the foyer I saw another flashing red light pointed into the living room. Two cameras; I was being watched in my own house. Great.

I clutched the kitchen sink, trying to control my breathing, I wasn't going to appear weak to theses…barbarians. Why was this happening to me? Why oh why was this happening about me?

The sound of phone rang through the silent house, causing me to jump. With a shaking hand I picked it up off the counter and answered it.

"Glad you got our message Kelly. How do you like our little…Gift?"

"Who are you people?" I whispered.

The man on the other end chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine and told me this guy wasn't known for his people skills. "It doesn't matter; the only thing that matters right now is your father."

"What have you done to him?" I asked, my voice rising.

"Nothing…yet. You see, daddy here isn't cooperating with us. So, we decided the only way would be to hear your voice. His little princess. His only daughter."

I pressed the phone closer to my ear, gripping the receiver till my knuckles turned white.

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Kelly," the man said a little disappointed. "I thought you would be a lot more fun, they told me you have a lot of spunk, but no matter. It wouldn't be any fun if you knew what was happening, now would it?"

"What do you people want from me?" I asked, relatively calm though I wanted to scream and tell them all the cuss words I know in all the languages I knew.

I could tell the man was smiling through the phone at the sound of my defeat. He knew there wasn't anything I could do.

"Someone wants you. You have a special purpose but you also keep your father in line. Now try to hold onto the phone as you scream."

I turned around just in time to see a man running toward me; a glint of silver flashed in his hand.

I quickly ducked as the knife that was meant for my throat whizzed past my ear. In my haste to duck the blade I dropped the phone on the cold linoleum floor as I bumped into the counter top. The edge of the counter bit into my back but I ignored it, reaching behind me I grabbed my own knife. The man feigned an attack followed quickly by another one hoping to catch me off guard. I was ready though, which seemed to surprise him; his boss must have been told I was an easy target. They were sadly mistaken.

My father thought it would be best for me to learn how to defend myself. I had taken multiple fighting classes and a combat course. I also learned how to fight hand-to-hand, something I much preferred than a knife but that didn't mean I was bad. I was one bad ass chick; one you didn't want to mess with. My father always told me I was light on my feet and quick, something I should use to my advantage. That was the only advantage I seemed to have against my opponent, that and maybe the fact he still underestimated me.

I watched as he watched me, taking note that I knew how to handle myself. So I didn't have that to my advantage, but not before I got in one quick swipe, catching the man's arm. He looked at me startled and then at his arm where blood was starting to pool.

"Now chica, I'm only here to make some noise, not hurt you." He said with a heavy Spanish accent.

"The only noise you'll be making is the front door slamming behind you as you leave." I said, my voice even.

I watched as the man contemplated what he was going to do. He probably thought his odds weren't in his favor and he was right. Finally the man left with the door slamming behind him, causing the whole house to shake. Taking a deep breath, I picked the phone back up.

"How was that sound?"

"Seems we have under estimated you; that won't happen again. Dispose of the body. Don't try anything fancy, we will be checking him." The man said as the line went dead.

I set the phone back down on the counter and stared at the knife I still clutched in my hand. Beads of blood dripped down the blade creating a small pool on the floor. I didn't think I cut him that bad, not enough to cause him to bleed this much. I shook my head and rustled through the cabinets looking for a plastic bag. I put the knife in the bag and hid it in my room, away from the camera. I wiped the blood off the floor and stared at the phone; wondering if they would call back.

I headed towards the study and looked at the corpse that was sitting in my father's chair, wondering how I was supposed to get a body out of my house without rising suspicion. I grabbed a pair of rubber gloves from the hall closet and wrapped the body up before I moved him to my car.

I took me a while to get him outside. I ended up bumping into the wall more than once and had to stand him up to get him through the doorway, but he was finally outside. I looked around, hoping that none of my neighbors were out, but of course there had to be Miss Dixon. I watched her for a minute and saw she was preoccupied with her first prize roses to even notice me and my large…package. I slipped him into the car and was shutting the door when she glanced up. I waved at her, hoping she'd take that as all was well. As I was closing the door, I saw a Toyota F-150 across the street, windows partially rolled down, a pair of binoculars sitting on the dash. It was a bit odd considering no one in my neighborhood had such a vehicle. It took me a second to realize why that car was there; so I was also under surveillance. I was a prisoner in my own house; that's a first.

I slipped into the driver seat and started driving, looking for nowhere in particular. I was looking for some place to dump him. Any place that was far from my house. I found a dark alley that would cause investigators to look closer. I placed the man against some dumpsters and slipped a piece of paper into his hand before leaving. I dialed NCIS and told them what I saw; they replied they'd send someone over soon.

I let out a sigh and headed back to my car, not wanting to stick around. I had to do something before they hurt my father or worse…kil-

_No! _The little voice in the back of my mind screamed. _You are not going to jump to conclusions. You will get help, you'll think of something._

That would involve a calculated risk, one that I would have to take to save him. Question was, was I willing to take that risk?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Tony

"So McGee, how was your Sunday?" I asked from my office chair.

"Uneventful, Casey told me she didn't want a serious boyfriend." He said glumly.

"Didn't you go on one date?"

"Yes, and I know what you're thinking."

"You can't possible know what I'm thinking."

McGee looked at me with his 'oh-really' face. "You're thinking that it must have been one lousy first date to make her swear me off."

"That wasn't what I was thinking, but pretty close."

"What were you thinking?

"That she's a-"

"Gear up," Gibbs barked, strolling into the squad room. "Got a dead Petty Officer." He grabbed his SIG and badge from his desk drawer before strolling toward the elevator.

Everyone hastily grabbed their belongings, hoping to get to the elevator before the doors closed. You didn't want to be the one to keep Gibbs waiting. Ever.

~/~/~

We arrived at the crime scene, which wasn't much, just a body leaning against the dumpster. He didn't look mugged or like he had gotten drunk and passed out there. Why was the body in an ally then?

"Tony! Snap pictures. McGee! Measurements. Ziva! Gather statements from any witnesses and whoever called it in." Gibbs barked as he went over to talk to the local Leo's.

I headed back toward the truck and grabbed the camera.

"Weird isn't?" I asked, checking the camera's battery.

McGee looked at me perplexed, not catching what I was meaning. "What's weird?"

I gestured to the crime scene before us. "That, that Petty Officer is found dead in an ally and he doesn't look like he's been mugged. I bet he still has his wallet on him."

McGee's brow furred further. "Then why is he dead?"

"That, Probie, is what we are here to find out." I said, closing the truck doors.

I began to snap pictures of the crime scene: the dead body leaning against the dumpster and anything surrounding him. I didn't see any bullet wounds on the body so that ruled out a shooting. Then it must have been done silently. There weren't any abrasions on the man to show that he had tried to defend himself against the attacker so he knew the man who killed him or was caught unaware that there was someone there to kill him.

"What do you got Duck?" Gibbs asked our medical examiner as he was handed the man's wallet which he promptly tossed to McGee.

Doctor Donald Mallory, otherwise known as Ducky, was our medical examiner for NCIS. He is of Scottish origin and has a tale to tell about any given situation. It seems like everything brings up a story one way or another. He wouldn't be Ducky if he didn't

"He been dead for," Ducky pulled out the liver probe. "Twelve hours, he was killed sometime this morning. I'll have to bring him back to autopsy to be sure what killed him, but from the looks of it he bled to death. A slow and painful way to die. See here," he gestured to the wrists. "He has rope burns on his wrists and forearms, the result of being tied up. Bruising on the face and torso show they were trying to inflict pain on our poor Petty Officer. Ah, what's this?" Ducky asked opening up the dead Petty Officers hand so McGee could get fingerprints.

I snapped a quick pick of the item in his hand before Gibbs took it. I watched as he unfolded the note and read it. Nothing moved on Gibbs face that gave any indication of what it said.

"Pack up, there's nothing here." Gibbs barked

I headed back toward the truck and strapped in, somehow I wasn't going to like this investigation, especially when it sets Gibbs on edge.

~/~/~/~

I entered the bullpen and took a seat at my desk, setting my backpack down.

"Tony, what's going on?" Ziva asked walking in.

"I don't know, I was snapping pictures when Ducky found something. Gibbs wasn't too impressed and he knows that it didn't happen there."

Ziva looked at me confused. "What didn't happen there?"

"The murder, the body was moved. Question is where was he moved from and why was he moved."

Ziva sat down at her desk and began looking up any sort of lead. "Do you know the dead Petty Officer's name?" Ziva asked.

"McGee was the one who was handed the wallet. Speaking of which, where is McGee?"

Ziva glanced up from her screen. "He said something about coffee."

"No, that's not it… I know I'm missing something." I mumbled to myself.

Gibbs strolled in, slamming his empty coffee cup on the desk, clearly irritated.

"Hey boss, do we know who the Petty Officer is?"

"Joshua Zimmerman, he works with Jeffery Miller. Ziva and McGee go to his office and see if they know anyone willing to kill him."

"McGee's not here boss." I said from my desk.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked.

"Right boss." Reaching into my desk I pulled out my SIG and badge and followed Ziva to the elevator, my backpack strap slipping off my shoulder. Today was going to be a long day.

~/~/~/~

We arrived at the office that the Petty Officer Zimmerman worked at. It was a tall office building with a double door garage where they probably worked on cars that were testing their latest invention. We entered the front doors and grabbed our visitor's badges from the front desk before taking the elevator to the Officers office.

Stepping out of the elevator we found the office to be deserted. All the terminals were silent, none of the computers where on and the desk lights off.

"Hello?" I called in to the empty room.

A little man poked his head out from one of the terminals, beads of sweat trickled on his face. I watched as the man waddled over here, producing a handkerchief from his pocket he wiped the sweat from his forehead. His shirt was wrinkled, looking like it hadn't seen an iron and there looked to be grease stains on the front of his shirt. This man preferred his shirt to a napkin. Hygienic.

"Hello, my name is David Bell. What can I help you with today?"

I pulled out my badge and flashed my credentials, hoping to get somewhere with this little man. "I'm Special Agent DiNozzo, this is Agent David. We're here to talk to you about Petty  
>Officer Zimmerman."<p>

The man looked at me startled, his russet eyes going as round as buttons. "Is Josh okay?"

"If by okay you mean dead, then yes, he's okay." Ziva said bluntly, not much for the smooth approach. "Do you know where he was last night, early this morning?"

David looked between us as he wiped his glasses on the edge of his shirt. "Last time I saw Josh was last night when Jeff and him were working on a project. I believe they went home sometime this morning. In fact everyone who stayed late was told not to report back here tomorrow, no exceptions."

"You are still here." Ziva pointed.

"Well yes, I didn't work late last night. My daughter got sick and I had to leave early to take care of her. Jeff knew that."

"Who's Jeff?" I asked, jotting in my notepad.

David's face turned a light shade of pink. "Jeffery Miller is our commanding officer and project leader. When we're working on a project he allows us to call him Jeff, says it's easier that way, We've actually been working on a project for months now and haven't gotten any headway or progress till three days ago."

"What type of project?"

"I'm not allowed to disclose that information."

"Do you know anyone who would want to kill Zimmerman?"

David shook his head. "Everyone liked Josh. He was nice and always tried to help people. In fact I heard he was trying to help Jeff's daughter…Kelly, I believe. I'm really shocked he's dead."

"What can you tell me about your Commanding Officer?"

"Hardworking, dedicated, workaholic; he always stays late and comes in early since as long as I've known him. Not married, though he once was and he has a daughter who is still living with him, though she was at college. She moved in about two months ago. He never mentioned why and nobody asks."

"When was the last time you saw Commander Miller?"

"Same time I saw Josh. They left together in the same car. I bet they were going to continue working from home."

"Do you know whose car they took?"

"Jeffery's, I believe."

"Alright. Thank you Mr. Bell."

Ziva and I left the building, heading back toward out vehicle.

"We should probably check out Jeffery Miller, he was the last person who saw the Petty Officer." I said pulling out of the parking lot.

"We should look for the Jeffery's car. We might find out where they were."

~/~/~/~/~/~/

We walked back into the office to find Timmy typing ferociously at his keys

"Whatcha doin' Probie?"

"Something for Gibbs." He answered, brows furred in concentration.

"What would that be?"

"I don't know Tony and I didn't really ask."

"Calm down McGrumpy, it was just a question."

"What do you got?" Gibbs asked, taking that moment to walk in.

"Joshua Zimmerman was a nice guy and always tries to help people. He was last seen with Jeffery Miller, their Commanding Officer, when they drove back to Millers place. Bell says that they took one car and would probably work on their project there, even though they got the day off. Maybe they had a falling out."

"Where's Miller?'

"Not at the office, only Bell was there, everyone got the day off. Besides, Bell doesn't know anything except that they took Millers car to his place." Ziva said cutting in.

"Address?"

"300 Cherry wood Drive, Richmond Virginia." McGee supplied from his desk. "He has a daughter staying with him named Kelly." McGee brought up her driver's license on the plasma.

"McGee track down where Mr. Miller could have gone. DiNozzo. Paper trail on Joshua. Ziva you're with me."

"Where are we going?" Ziva asked picking up her bags and following Gibbs to the elevator.

"To see if anyone's home."

I watched Gibbs and Ziva leave before turning back to the plasma. Three images stared back at me, all neatly in a row: Josh, Jeff and Kelly. I looked at Kelly's picture and couldn't help but feel like I knew her. It was nagging sensation in the back of my mind. I mean I can list all the girls I've ever known, dated and flirted with. Let me tell you, that's one extensive list. Well… almost everyone, there was something about this one though.

I took a seat at my desk, ready to start on the paper trail, hoping to find a lead and get this case done with. I peeked over at the plasma, trying to picture where I saw her before.

"Don't you think it's weird?" I asked.

"What? That you never dated her before?" McGee asked not even looking up.

I glared at McGee and continued. "No, that I think I know her."

McGee looked at me surprised. "What?"

"Yea, I think I know her."

"How?" McGee asked standing up.

"If I knew then I would tell you wouldn't I?"

"What do you remember?" McGee asked.

"Her eyes, they are a very pretty shade of blue that I have never seen before."

"Okay, what else do you remember?

I looked at the plasma and tried to imagine where I had seen that face before. "I remember the smell of coffee." I shook my head. "It doesn't matter; we need to find out who killed Petty Officer Zimmerman."

McGee returned to his desk and I turned back to my computer, not before seeking one last peek at the plasma.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author Note: So sorry it's taken me so long to post this chapter. Last week, between school and drama (not drama like people but like arts) and I got sick, i found I was out of time. Hope you like this chapter, even though its so short.**

Chapter 5 Kelly

I sat on the edge of the couch, tense and nervous, waiting for something to happen, anything to happen. It had been quiet for hours now. Nobody had come and pounded on my door to arrest me or to come looking for my father, but I knew it was only a matter of time before someone arrived.

I brought my feet up on the couch and leaned my head against the arm rest; maybe if I calmed down a bit then I wouldn't be so jumpy. Every little noise I heard made me jump, even if it was just a bird. I was on edge and I hated it. I wasn't good under pressure or when being watched; it made me tense. There was also the whole moving a dead body. That also made me jumpy.

The sound of the doorbell echoed through the otherwise silent house, causing me to jump ten feet in the air. I let out a sigh, trying to calm my pounding heart. I got off of the couch and headed toward the door. With shaking fingers I tried straightening my shirt and being the essence of a calm collective person. Finally, after I was satisfied with my appearance, I opened the door. Standing before me was a silvered haired man who looked old enough to be my father, and standing next to him was a beautiful woman with a natural tan complexion that I always envied.

"Hello Miss Miller. I'm Special Agent Gibbs, this is Ziva David. We're from NCIS. Is your father home?" The silver haired agent asked, flashing his badge.

"He's not here right now; I think he's still at work." I replied, trying to cover up my shaking hands.

I heard the sound of the phone ringing in the other room and had a sickening feeling it was going to be my babysitter. I looked between Gibbs and the phone and had to choose one.

"Please come in, take a seat in the living room I have to go take that."

I left them standing in the door way as I went to go answer my phone. I found it exactly where I had left it that morning. I picked it off the marble counter top, knowing with such certainty that it would be them.

"Hello?"

"Kelly, I don't think I have to remind you about what you have to do, do I?" The man on the other end asked.

"No." I heard myself whisper.

"Good. Remember Miss. Miller, we are watching."

And just like that the line went dead. This man was amazing at the vague and cryptic phone calls. I set the phone back down and stared at it, thinking he'd call again to be an asshole but the phone stayed silent.

_Time to go face the federal agents_,I thought, heading into the living room where the two agents were sitting.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked, hovering in the doorway.

"No, we're good, thank you. When was the last time you saw your father?" Agent Gibbs asked.

"Friday. He didn't come home, but when he's working on something big he never comes home. Probably explains why my parents are divorced. I'm pretty sure he worked the weekend, said he made a major breakthrough."

"So it's natural to go lengths at a time without seeing him?" Agent David asked.

"Yes, I'm not ten, Agent David. I can take care of myself." I replied.

"I don't doubt that." Gibbs said with a chuckle.

"Can I ask why my father is being looked for by NCIS?" I asked.

"He's the Commanding Officer of a research group and one of his men was found today. Murdered. Your father was the last one with him."

"So you think my father killed this man?"

"We don't know anything; we just wanted to ask him some standard questions."

"But he's not here and he's not at work, otherwise you wouldn't be here. You think he killed the Petty Officer and disappeared."

"Is that what you think?" Gibbs asked.

So he wanted to play head games, well two could play at that game.

"No Agent Gibbs, my father didn't kill anyone. Last time I checked, a man was innocent unless proven guilty. I didn't know it changed to guilty unless proven innocent."

A small smile crept to the old man's face. "Thank you Miss Miller for your time, if your father does come home would you give me a call?" He asked, handing me his business card.

I nodded my head and followed them to the door. I watched them from the door way as they got in their cars before leaving. I knew they'd be back. They'd be back once they figured out that I had moved the body. I wanted to tell them but I couldn't, not with my father missing.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Tony

I worked on the paper trail for close to an hour and came up with nothing. Joshua Zimmerman was clean. Didn't do drugs, hadn't been in any fights that went on his record, and he wasn't doing anything illegal. Nothing I found stood out or pointed me in the right direction.

McGee was still working on where Mr. Miller could have gone. He was probably running down his credit card, cell phone and all the electronical things that I would have taken me hours to do. I'm not that technology savvy.

I glanced over at the junior field agent and noticed that he looked a little tense himself, his shoulders were hunched over and his face was just about pressed to the screen. Obviously Probie had nothing or he wouldn't feel so stressed. We have reached a dead end, or hit a brick wall as my math teacher use to say.

I still had nagging feeling that I knew Kelly from somewhere and it was beginning to irritate me. Her picture was no longer on the plasma, McGee thought it would help me focus if he took it off; and it had worked till I reached my dead end. I pulled her file back up and looked at her picture. There she was, her blue eyes staring back at me. I scrolled down, looking at her information wondering if maybe she would give me a lead somewhere.

That's when my eyes fell on it. I finally knew where I had seen Kelly. There in black in white was the college she had gone to. Ohio University. From the looks of it we went there for one year: when Kelly was a freshman and I was a senior. I guess I saw her around campus then, but I could lose the smell of coffee when I thought of her.

"Yes, yes, yes." I said under my breath.

"What?" McGee asked glancing over at me, anxious that I may have saved both our asses.

"I know where I've seen Kelly before."

"Really?" He asked, a bit surprised.

"Yeah, we went to the same college. She was a freshman and I was just finishing up with my Bachelor's degree. She was getting her teaching degree in…" I scrolled down. "History. She also went to the University of Pennsylvania and was there till two months ago."

"Did you find anything unusual with Josh?" McGee asked.

I shook my head. "No, he was spotless. Nothing that showed that he was in anything illegal. Nothing worth killing him over."

"What do you have?" Gibbs asked, strolling in.

_Might as well tell him the truth. All of it. Don't want him to find out later, no matter the consequence._

"We have nothing that would make someone kill him over." I replied.

"McGee?" Gibbs growled, turning to his junior field agent.

"I ran every angle I could think of, Joshua Zimmerman is clean." McGee stammered

Gibbs looked about ready to kill us both, but was interrupted by the sound of his cell. McGee and I let out a silent sigh of relief that we weren't going to be read the riot act.

"Gibbs." He barked.

He nodded his head. "Be right there Ab's."

I followed Gibbs out of the squad room toward Abby's lab, hoping that our forensic specialist had something better than his two easily replaceable field agents.

~/~/~/

Gibbs strolled in the lab, which was blasting emo, punk music, to find our spunk forensic specialist typing on one of her many computers. Abby was a goth; a happy goth, but a goth none the less. She was one big oxymoron who wore her emotions on her sleeve. You could always tell what she was feeling. She also had a strange fashion sense, preferring platform boots to heels and spikey accessories to diamonds. Today she was wearing a short red and black plaid skirt, her black hair pulled back in her usual pigtails, and a skull and cross bones t shirt.

"What do you got Ab's?" Gibbs asked strolling in.

"I have this itch in the middle of my back that I can't reach and I've been trying to get it all morning." Abby spun around on her platform heeled feet to meet Gibbs's stare. It wasn't as cruel and bitter as the ones that he throws at McGee, Ziva and I.

"Sorry Gibbs." She mumbled. "Anyway, Ducky found a partial print on the body, the arm to be exact. I'm running it through AFIS now. I also got a fiber off of his clothes which is from the rope that they tied him up with. It's just your basic rope you can get at the store."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"There was a receipt found in his pocket that shows they went to the gas station this morning."

"Did you-" Gibbs began.

"Pull up the camera and look for them?" Abby said, cutting him off. "Really Gibbs do you even have to ask? I tried the gas station but their camera wasn't working. I called them and they said they've been down for weeks."

"Thank you." Gibbs said, giving Abby a quick peak on the cheek before leaving.

I approached Abby who had turned back to her computer and began to scratch the middle of her back where you can never reach no matter how hard you tired. Abby let out a sigh of relief when the itching sensation subsided.

"Thank you Tony." Abby squealed draping her willowy arms around my neck.

I chucked. "Any times Abbs'."

I turned to leave when Abby's computer let out a chirp causing Abby to quickly turn toward her babies. Her fingers flowed over the keys bringing up the results from the fingerprint. One name flashed across the screen, one name that didn't make any sense.

Kelly Miller.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey all, sorry about how long this has taken to get up been a bit busy with school starting back up (man I wish it was summer again), I finally found chapter 7 so here it is. I do plan on writing more you will just have to bear with me on how long it takes to update between the crap load of homework teachers give me and drama (my play is coming up so I'm at school for like 4 more hours) I have no time. Here's your chapter, hope you enjoy. :0)**

Chapter 7 Kelly

There's nothing like spending the day worrying about being arrested at any moment, and nothing like spending the night thinking you'll get kidnapped. Everything has been quiet since the two agents left my house: no phone calls, no letters and no intruder. That didn't help my nerves, which were already shot from the phone call earlier and the two agents who dropped by.

It was a restless night for me, spent tossing and turning along with thoughts and ideas swirling through my head. I probably only got an hour of sleep, maybe two. Finally around five a.m. I got out of bed and tried busying myself with work around the house. That, of course, was me straightening an already spotless house. Once I was done with that, I tried to sit still; watch a movie, read my psych textbook, but nothing worked. I was still edgy. At around ten I tried to control the sudden need to scream and stop the twitching I was doing.

I collapsed in a seat at the island, trying to control the sudden need to pace. I was anxious and on edge, something I don't handle real well. I needed to get out; I need to do something, anything. I hated the feeling of being watched; I left like a caged tiger at the zoo. Everyone watched as it paced back and forth, laughing that it had nowhere to go. I felt like that caged tiger, with nowhere to go.

Unable to stand it any longer, I headed toward the door, grabbing my keys off the small table that stood opposite the door and was out the door without a backward glance. I slid into the driver seat, watching as the Toyota across the street came to life the same time my Honda purred to life. I needed to burn off the extra energy I had and a drive was the only thing I could think of.

I pulled out of the drive way and headed down the street. I drove around town a bit, sometimes in circles, turning whenever I felt like it, heading to nowhere in particular. The people in the Toyota stayed two cars behind me the whole time, far enough away that they wouldn't seem suspicious but close enough so they could still see me. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel; they weren't helping the emotional state I was in. I pressed on the accelerator and took the ramp to the highway.

Let's see how good they were at chasing their target and how good I was at ditching them.

I raced down the highway, swerving between cars, trying to lose my pursuers but they were hot on my heels. I caught a quick glance in the rear view mirror and noticed they were pulling out hand guns, aiming right at my vehicle. I pressed down on the gas, trying to get away from them but I was already giving her all she got.

"Damn it." I mumbled under my breath. This wasn't going the way I had planned.

I needed to get to NCIS headquarters and have these guys confused or lost. If I didn't, then this was all in vain and my dad was already dead. I needed a plan and fast. First things first, I needed some kind of weapon. I opened the glove compartment and smiled to myself as I saw my gun nestled nicely inside. Guess I forgot to take it out after the practice I had at the shooting range so many months ago. I thanked my forgetful self and pulled it out of the glove compartment, swerving in and out of traffic, trying my best to avoid an accident before slipping the gun under my leg.

Now that I had a weapon, all I needed was the plan, one that didn't result in my father's death or my untimely demise. I had an idea but I was probably crazy for trying it.

_A little too late to turn back now, isn't it? _The little voice in the back of my head chided.

Shots were fired, embedding themselves in the back of my car, one shattered my back windshield. I knew we weren't far from NCIS which gave me hope that maybe I could pull this off.

I made a sharp right off the highway, cutting a couple people off in the process and continued to floor it. I needed some place remote, some place easily accessible and yet hidden. An abandoned parking lot or an alley way sounded good, but I didn't know if I could get into that easily. I looked out the window, looking for some sort of building I could use. The mall was defiantly out of the question, too many people. Fair grounds were also out, they held too many people too. Where was a secluded place when you needed one?

I was out of time. I made a sharp left into the first parking complex I found, which just so happened to be empty. Horns blared as people hit their brakes so they didn't ram in to my vehicle. I didn't care; the only thing I thought of was the people following me were now stuck in the traffic jam I had just created. I made my way up the complex watching as my pursuers fell further and further behind. I felt a sigh escape my lips when I realized that they were going to catch me, I was going up and there was nowhere else to go, but up, I had just cornered myself.

I reached the top and knew I only had a matter of seconds before the other car made an appearance. I stopped the car, grabbed my gun, checking the clip to make sure I had enough bullets for this fight, and turned the safety off before slipping it in the back of my pants. I heard the sound of tires skidding on the road before I saw the car. They pulled in blocking my car in the process, making sure I couldn't escape. I watched as a man and a woman stepped out of the car, their faces forbidding from the pursuit. The woman was wearing a pants suit with a pair of combat boots, so she could run if required, while her partner wore a suit with what looked like real Italian leather shoes.

The man approached my car, pulling the gun from his holster as he went. He rapped on the window with the barrel of the gun, hoping that would scare me and the fact that they were going to use force if at all necessary.

"Slowly exit your car, hands outstretched, and don't make any sudden movement or Silvia here will shoot you." He said with a smile, taking a step back as he aimed his gun at me.

I gradually opened the car door and stepped out, raising my hands in front of me, showing them I was unarmed. The man now stood beside the woman he called Silvia, making it easier for me to gauge their motives and actions before I got hurt.

"What do you want from me?" I asked, trying to distract them.

The woman flashed me a devilish smile before her partner spoke up. "We need you to keep daddy in line and get him talking; he's very stubborn you know. Just like you. You have two options, you can come with us kicking and screaming and may end up injured, or you can come with us quietly which is the less painful way. The choice is yours."

Slowly, tentatively, I began to reach behind my back for my gun, hoping the guy ranting in front of me wouldn't realize what I was doing.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me?"

The woman looked at me pointedly before smirking. "You don't." she said in a heavily accented voice.

I pulled my gun out from my back before they even realized what I was doing. I squeezed the trigger, hearing the shots ring out as someone cried out in pain before falling silent. The woman looked at her partner and then at me in shock.

"You bitch." She snarled between clenched teeth as she fired her own weapon.

I took cover behind my car door hoping that it would protect me from her wrath. Silvia was relentless though and unloaded a full clip into my car door, shattering the driver's side window. I used that to my advantage and reloaded my weapon. I took a couple shots at Silvia before retreating back behind the door.

"Come on Kelly. Is that all daddies taught you?" she taunted.

She was mocking me. I could tell by her tone that she wanted me to ease my head out just far enough that she could blow it away. I checked my clip to see how many bullets I had left and knew that if this continued I was dead.

_What the hell._I thought to myself.

I walked from behind the car firing my gun at Silvia, watching as she fired back at me confused at what I had planned. Funny thing was, I didn't have a plan. I fired my last shot simultaneously with Silvia; I jumped to my right hoping to dodge the bullet coming towards. I felt it pierce through my left shoulder as a cry of pain escaped my lips. I landed on the ground gun pointed at a deceased Silvia.

I rolled over on my back and dropped the gun while gasping for air. Pain was throbbing through my injured shoulder as blood seeped through my shirt. I laid there, loving how soft the ground seemed to feel underneath me, sort of like a very fluffy feather, and how the pain seemed to diminish as the seconds slowly ticked by. A small smile crept to my face as felt myself floating.

_WHAT ARE YOU DOING? _The little voice in the back of my mind screamed, scattering the tranquility I felt. Pain shot through my shoulder and I realized I had to get going, I had to tell someone about my dad then I could sleep. I pressed my right hand into the wound, hoping that would help the bleeding, as I slowly eased myself off the ground till I was in a sitting position. The world around me seemed to tilt and spin before stopping, and I realized that I needed help, and quick.

I staggered back to my car watching as the world swayed with each step, and black dots started to form in front of me. I slipped into my car and started the ride down; I pressed my left hand farther into my shoulder, wincing in pain as beads of blood trickled between my fingers, staining the cloth seats beneath me.

I somehow managed to get to NCIS, just how was a bit fuzzy since my vision seemed to come in and out of focus. The guard at the gate stopped me and asked me for my id. I handed it over to him and watched as two other guards came over and started scanning my car, looking for a bomb threat or not. Finally after the trunk was closed and my id returned to me, I pulled on to the base. Somehow security hadn't noticed that I was bleeding, or injured for that matter. Maybe it looked like I had a pinched nerve and was massaging it, whatever the reason was, I was thankful that I wasn't stopped, I don't think I could handle being stopped.

I stumbled into the building and slipped into the elevator taking it to where Agent Gibbs and his team should be; they were the only one who could help me right now. I had replaced my left hand with my right, not wanting to hurt myself anymore and wishing the bleeding would stop. I placed my hand on the wall to steady myself before I collapsed, leaving a bloody handprint on the wall. The elevator gave a soft ding as the doors swooshed open.

I walked out of the elevator, hating how I seemed to sway with each step I took. Gibbs team wasn't that far from the elevator but each step took longer and longer to get there and my feet were starting to feel like lead; it was only a matter of time before I collapsed on the floor. I just took my last step to the squad room where Agent Gibb's team was located and noticed he wasn't there.

"I'm looking for Agent Gibbs." I said, before the dots clouded my vision and I was no longer standing.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 Tony

I watched as the woman before us swayed on her feet, her eyes rolling to the back of her head before she fell forward. I sprang from my chair, causing it to tip over in my haste, and caught the woman in my arms right before she hit the ground. I felt a smile rise to my lips at how smooth that was, but my little party was short lived since she wasn't awake to swoon and the fact that she was bleeding quite excessively. She probably passed out from all the blood that was coming from her shoulder. I motioned for McGee to come over and help me, as I shifted my weight, bringing us both to the ground.

I placed a hand on her injury, trying to stop the flow of blood and was amazed at how easily it slipped through my fingers, despite the pressure I was putting on it. This girl needed help and fast.

"Ziva, call an ambulance." I exclaimed, pushing down on the wound harder than before. I had to stop the bleeding somehow before she bled to death.

I glanced down at the woman and watched as her eyes fluttered beneath her eye lids, she was down for the count, at least for now. I looked at McGee who was standing idly beside me, watching as I tried to help her.

"Probie, look for an ID or something." I said slipping off my jacket and placing it under her head.

McGee looked at me startled and kneeled over the woman, looking for some sort of identification. He pulled out her wallet and ID card from her front pockets and looked stunned; he all but dropped the item in hand.

"Tony, this is Jeffery Millers daughter. This is Kelly." He murmured.

I looked at the unconscious woman startled. This couldn't be right. Why was our missing man's daughter bleeding to death at NCIS? Did she know something that was fatal to our investigation? Did she know something about the body downstairs?

"The ambulance should be here soon." Ziva exclaimed, slamming the in phone in the cradle.

"I don't think she'll make it that long." I mumbled to myself as I striped off my tie, wrapping it around her shoulder. "McGee, go get Ducky."

I gestured to Ziva to hand over her jacket so I could use it as a bandage. As I worked on our patient I couldn't help but feel the rise and fall of her chest as I worked on her shoulder and then nothing. Kelly had stopped breathing.

"Damn it." I muttered. "Ziva, hold this, I have to administer CPR."

Ziva places a hand where mine were, as I positioned myself and Kelly to properly utilize CPR. I took a deep breath and breathed. Nothing. I pushed down on her chest. Still nothing.

"Breath god damn it." I whispered under my breath.

I breathed into her mouth once more and pulled back just as her body convulsed trying to get oxygen to her body.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me with the same intense shade of blue from her files, just like I remembered.

"Not the hospital." She mumbled as her eyes began to fall closed.

I looked at Kelly confused. "You're going to need help and most likely surgery. Where else would you go?"

"Not safe." She mumbled before falling silent.

I glanced over at Ziva who looked just as confused as I was. What the hell was going on?

"Excuse me Ziva." Ducky said switching places with the agent. "My dear girl, what _have _you gotten yourself into?"

"From the looks of it, a gun fight." I said rocking back on my heels, trying to give the good doctor some room.

Everyone watched as Ducky removed Ziva's coat off her shoulders to reveal the injury. He slowly rotated her to see if the bullet was a through and through or not.

"You're a lucky girl. The bullet went straight through, so she will not have to have it removed. She will, however, need surgery to close up this hole. Do you know how far the shooter was?"

"We don't know anything Ducky, she had just arrived before this happened." I said gesturing madly in the general vicinity.

"I see. She should go to Bethesda, they have the best team."

"She doesn't want a doctor Ducky. She thinks the hospitals aren't safe."

"Well, she has to go; no place will be able to treat her."

"That's what she said Duck."

"What happened, dear boy, before I arrived?" Ducky asked looking at me over the rim of his glasses.

I filled Ducky in on what had occurred down here in the squad room before her arrival, how we were all working on leads, waiting for some sort of results but hitting dead ends and finished with Kelly passing out after requesting for Gibbs.

"Where is our fearless leader?"

"Coffee, I think."

"Well, Anthony my boy, I managed to wrap the wound which should help the bleeding till the paramedics arrive. There isn't much more I can do for her." He said standing. "I'm going to wait for the EMT's to get her, so I can tell them her condition as we make our way up. Watch her, make sure she doesn't move or stop breathing again."

I nodded my head and watched as Ducky disappeared into the elevator, hoping that the paramedics would get here soon. Ziva hovered over my shoulder, ready to step in if I needed her while McGee paced back and forth, not knowing what to do and feeling completely useless. We were all feeling like that at this point, we weren't good at sitting still and waiting.

"What's going on?" Gibbs asked strolling into the bullpen after what I would bet was a coffee break.

I glanced up and met his piercing blue eyes, wondering how I could explain what happened. A lot had occurred since Gibbs had disappeared for his coffee.

"Well boss, this is Kelly Miller, our suspect at the moment and she's been shot." I replied calmly, though I sure as hell wasn't feeling it. "We're waiting on the EMT's."

As if their ears were burning, three EMT's emerged from the elevator with the gurney. They rushed toward us and began to check the good doctors work while Ziva and I got out of the way. They talked amongst themselves and Doctor Mallard, who had arrived with them, before reaching a verdict on the medical procedures. I watched as they brought Kelly on to the gurney and began pushing it out of the room; I continued watching until it disappeared from view. I couldn't help but wonder what they were going to do to Kelly once she got to the hospital. Lucky for me one EMT had stayed behind to fill us in on the situation.

"She looks to be suffering from a gunshot wound which just missed the clavicle. It's a through and through, which helps the patient. We can't tell if the bullet caused any nerve damage or not, the doctors at Bethesda will be able to tell you more." The EMT started toward the elevator just as I called out.

"Wait! Make sure no one enters her room besides her doctor and NCIS. Anyone else has to be cleared by us."

"I don't know if I can do that Sir. I just drop them off, but I can see what I can do." The EMT said as he stepped into the elevator to hitch a ride with the ambulance.

"What the hell is going on?" Gibbs asked, hating how in the dark he was. Guess we had to fill him in. Maybe I should just write a report, and then I wouldn't have to keep repeating myself, though I don't think Gibbs will ever read it.

A lot boss, a lot has happened." I said wearily falling back in my chair.

"She just walked in here looking for you before she passed out. We don't know why she came here." McGee said as he continued to pace. If that boy continued he was going to wear the carpets down until there was a permanent path between mine and McGee's desk.

"She didn't want to go to the hospital. That's what I don't understand. Why didn't she want to go to the hospital?" I asked myself aloud.

"Abby got a hit on the fingerprint that was found on the body, right before Kelly arrived. It belongs to Kelly." Ziva explained to Gibbs who was listening intensely to all of us rambling.

Finally he snapped to attention, the dog had found a scent and he wasn't about to lose it.

"McGee pull up the security camera at the front gate, see how she got here. Ziva, if she came in a car, you and McGee are going to find it and where she's been, and how she got shot. Tony," Gibbs said turning to me.

I glanced up from my spot in my chair, wondering why I felt on edge and tired all of a sudden. I am an agent; stuff like this happens to me all the time. That's what was it, it happens to me and trained professionals, people who signed up to put their life on the line, not civilians.

"Go clean yourself up. When you're done meet me by the Sedan."

"Where are we going?" I asked slowly getting up.

Gibbs fixed me with the infamous glare before leaving the room, probably to talk to Abby on the fingerprint.

I headed toward the filing cabinet and pulled out another shirt and tie that I kept at the office for those late nights that always occur when Gibbs runs a case. I chose a blue shirt rather than another white one, considering the shirt I was currently wearing was splattered with blood, something that wouldn't come out no matter how hard you tried. I left Ziva and McGee in the squad room as they set to work on locating Kelly's vehicle as I hit the head. I took my shirt off and threw it into the trash can, not wanting to deal with it. I turned on the sink and began to wash the caked on blood off my fingers. I watched as the water ran pink as I scrubbed my hands and then clear when they were clean. I dried my pink hands and slipped my new shirt on, buttoning that up before adding the tie, and then left the bathroom. I walked toward the elevator, heading down to the parking lot where I was meeting Gibbs.

~/~/~/~/~/~/

The ride to the hospital was quiet. I didn't say a thing to Gibbs and he didn't say a word to me. I knew he wanted to address the reason I was on edge, even though he was absorbed in what I assumed was Kelly's file, but I didn't want to talk about how I knew Kelly. I was afraid if I told Gibbs the reason why, he would have me pulled off the case and it wasn't worth it. Gibbs was going to need all the help he could get on this case.

We pulled up to the hospital and made our way inside. The doors closed behind us, leaving us in a crowded waiting room. The room was practically packed as people tried to find out how their friend or family member was doing. Doctors and nurses made their way around the room, trying to find anyone that was related to their patient. Looked like one hell of an accident.

Gibbs and I weaved our way through the crowd and approached the nurses' station. There was only one woman manning it, looking as exhausted and stressed as everyone around her.

"Excuse me, Miss? Could you help me real quick?" I asked leaning over the desk, trying to be heard over the crowd.

The woman, in her mid-twenties, looked at me over the rim of her glasses; her blonde hair had escaped the holds of her bun making her look desolate. She continued to shuffle around, gathering up files and papers that were needed and organize the mess that had fallen to her.

"I'm sorry sir, but I'm way too busy right now to help you locate someone. I have these files to deliver and help these people who have been waiting a lot longer then you."

"It will only take a second, I promise. A friend of mine was brought in here not too long ago and I was wondering where she was."

"What's your friends' name?" The woman let out a frustrated sigh and turned back toward her computer.

"Kelly Miller."

I watched as the woman's fingers moved across the keys bringing up the information I asked for.

"She's still in surgery; I don't know how long that's going to take since it doesn't tell me her condition. You can wait up there though, second floor." With that she disappeared, files in hand, ready to help people out.

I turned away from the desk and tried to locate Gibbs in this crowd and thought I saw him a couple times, but found they were men much older than my boss. I just hoped Gibbs didn't know that I thought he was old, which wasn't true; it's just he looked old. I hoped this conversation never comes up.

I found Gibbs talking to a little girl whose arm was wrapped in a bright pink cast. Noticing my approach, Gibbs said good-bye to the little girl and joined me near the elevator.

"Find her?"

"I did, second floor, still in surgery. I was told we should wait there, where the doctors know more on her condition then the nurses and computers down here. "

"Did she tell you how long the surgery would be?"

"The nurse didn't know anything and considering it's a circus out there, I'm surprised this place is still standing."

We arrived to the second floor and found it less busy then the lobby, people were milling about waiting for news, hoping for the best but fearing for the worse. Gibbs and I took a seat in the uncomfortable chairs and waited for any signs of a doctor. Look like we had awhile to go.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I'm back guys! Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I've been a bit busy. I'm not going to make excuses and beat around the bush, I'm just going to give you your chapter. (cause that's what you guys really want) I'm hoping to update more frequently, but you never know what's going to pop up. Thanks to bookworm264816 for betaing for me. Enjoy the chapter. :)**

**Also, reviews are always welcomed and appreciated. Now on with the story.**

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><p>Chapter 9 Kelly<p>

Darkness surrounded me. My first thought was 'I'm dead. I wasn't able to get to NCIS fast enough and I had bled to death as a result. Just my luck, too: now my dad will be suspected of murder, a crime he didn't commit, and then he will die after the people who took finished with him.'

_Focus, Miller._ My mind chided me. _You aren't dead yet._

I quickly realized that I was not in fact dead, but lying down with my eyes closed. I could still see the faint bit of light beneath my lashes.

I seemed to be lying on some sort of coarse material, like a rough blanket or a rug. I reached out and grabbed it, wondering what it was, and if this was my imagination or not. The fabric slipped through my fingers and I couldn't help but smile: how had I not realized I was at the beach? I could smell the salty sea air and the coconut scented sunscreen. I could feel the warm rays on my skin and a slight breeze that ruffled my hair.

"Hey there, sleepy head," a deep voice whispered in my ear, tickling my neck, "You fell asleep again. You're going to get sunburned if you don't reapply."

"Well, why don't you help a girl out," I murmured, not bothering to open my eyes.

I waited for the cool cream to hit my back. As soon as it did, I couldn't help but shiver, hating how cold it was compared to the sun. The shivers soon disappeared when a pair of calloused hands rubbed the sunscreen on my back. Though these hands were calloused from work, you could feel how gentle they were as they messaged the cream.

I rolled over till I was lying on my back and glanced at the man hovering over me. He smiled that toothy grin that would make all the ladies' hearts ache. I loved that about him. The sun slowly shifted 'till it was hidden behind the clouds and I could see who was kneeling over me.

"Marcus?" I asked, startled.

"You say that like you were expecting someone else," he said, smiling.

"I'm not…but you're not… you're…"

"Right here," he said, planting a kiss on my flustered lips. "And I'm not going anywhere."

I felt tears spring to my eyes. This Marcus could say anything he wanted about never leaving me, but I knew the truth. He did leave me and that knowledge hurt more with each passing day.

"But… you're dead," I whispered.

Marcus smile faded as those words left my mouth. Everything started to change around me. The crystal blue sky started to turn grey as big black clouds rolled in. The wind picked up out of nowhere, dragging the ocean and sand with it. As everything shifted, I turned to Marcus, noticing the sad look in his eyes, like he wished I hadn't said anything and ruined the moment. He was wondering why I broke the dream, why I was causing him to leave. Marcus stood up, ready to embrace the wind, to be dragged away like everyone thing else. I lunged toward him, hoping that I could make him stay, but my hands slipped through his like he was nothing more than an illusion. I was losing him again and I still wasn't ready to let him go.

"Don't go!" I shouted into the wind, but my words were swallowed by the storm before they could reach him. "Please don't go," I whispered as tears fell down my face. The storm picked up and just like that I was left with nothing. I was alone once again. I closed my eyes, wishing this would all go away, and that I wasn't alone.

"Kelly," a voice whispered from the darkness, echoing off the walls around me.

I looked around at the dark place I resided in wondering where the voice was coming from and why it sounded familiar.

"Wake up Kelly,"

"Marcus?" I called into the darkness.

"I need you to wake up for me, please. Open your eyes."

"Where are you?" I called again.

"Open your eyes," the voice cooed.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the harsh overhead light, half expecting Marcus to be standing next my bed. He wasn't. He was still gone, the ocean and sand along with him. It was all just a dream. A pretty, yet horrible, dream. The coarse material I was laying on wasn't a beach towel or sand, but, in fact, hospital sheets. I was in a hospital, somewhere I don't remember going to. I let out a silent groan at this sudden realization.

_Why the hell was I here? What happened to me?_

Images buzzed through my head like tiny, pissed off bees. Driving like a madman. Camera's. My dad. Being shot. NCIS. These images came in random order, but I knew what happened to me. I had been shot in the shoulder and had gone to NCIS for help. Turns out, they helped me more than I had thought.

I glanced at my injured shoulder and noticed, for the first time, that I couldn't feel it: my shoulder was completely numb. Great, just what I needed on a day like today. Or was tomorrow today and yesterday the today I was referring to?

The whole issue on whether today was today or not was giving me a headache. That pain wasn't as bad as the ache I was feeling in my heart, the pain that never seemed to fade even with time. There was always the constant reminder of Marcus, picture here, a letter there, reminders I didn't want or ask for. Even when I was dreaming I was thinking of him. He would always be in the dark corners of my mind, waiting for a time when I was vulnerable, and then he would come back. Only one person seemed to be able to keep Marcus out of my mind, that being my dad. Speaking of him, where was he?

My room was completely empty. Nobody sat in the uncomfortable plastic hospital chair next to my bed, or stood against the wall, waiting for me to wake up. The first thought that went through my head was that my dad just went to grab a cup of coffee and he'd be back in minute or two. He wasn't getting coffee, though; he wasn't waiting for me. He was being tortured for information, and here I was lying in bed, doing absolutely nothing. This was unacceptable.

I slowly propped myself up and couldn't help but wince as my shoulder was pulled from the pillow. So much for my shoulder being numb. Guess my pain killers were starting to wear off. I could already feel the small burning sensation starting to set in, making its way down my arm to my fingertips. I ignored the pain and tried to remember what I told Agent Gibbs about the situation I was in, but I couldn't, for the life of me, remember. I slammed my head against the pillows behind me in frustration.

Why was this happening to me? Why now?

A wave of nausea rolled through me. I grabbed the basin next to me and emptied the contents of my already empty stomach. I then leaned against my head against my pillow, hating how my eyes seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. I fought against the feeling and found that it was a lost cause as sleep won out in the end. I felt myself drifting away to the beach and the ocean that I had left earlier when I heard voices in the doorway.

"Excuse me, doctor. Do you know when she's going to wake?" a voice outside my door asked.

"Are you her family?" a different voice asked. I assumed it was the doctor.

"I'm her brother."

"My apologies. Your sister is doing well. Her vitals are good: it's only a matter of time before she wakes up. Don't worry, her shoulder will heal and she'll be up and about in no time."

"Thank you, doctor, for all you've done."

The sound of footsteps echoed off the halls as the doctor made his way down the hall. A device was flipped open as the other man answered it.

"She should wake soon…Yeah, I'll wait around…No…No problem…As soon as she wakes up I'll bring her in…" the voice slowly drifted away as the person walked down the hall."

I tried struggling against the sleep that threatened to overcome me, but my eyes started to close despite my best efforts. I needed to wake up. I had to get out of here. If they found me, I didn't know what they would do with me once they grabbed me. I heard the distant sound of voices as they made their way toward my room. I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to the guy who stopped by earlier, the one that was going to take me back with him.

"Is she awake yet?" a gruff voice asked, his voice sounding familiar.

"No, but she should be soon. The doctor says she's stable, which is good," the younger man replied.

"You've been here all day and all night. Go home. Rest."

"I'm fine," The younger man replied, but you could hear it in his voice that he was exhausted. From the sounds of it, he hadn't slept that night, too preoccupied with me, though that didn't make any sense. He didn't know me and yet he was concerned for my welfare.

"You want to talk to her when she comes through." It was stated more as fact then a question. This man knew that the younger one wanted to talk to me. It was evident in his voice.

"Yes, but I don't know how I'm going to bring up the man we found."

"It's your job."

"But-"

The voices slowly trailed off as the two men made their way down the hall. I'm going to be charged with murder. I can't go to jail. That's not an option: not today, not ever. My dad needed me and it wasn't as if I killed the guy they were referring to: I just moved the body. Damn, I'm going to be charged with accessory to murder. There's only one thing I can do, and sitting wasn't it.

I started disconnecting myself from the various machines that monitored my body and knew I only had a couple of seconds before the nurses realized I didn't have a heartbeat. There were two problems wrong with my plan: one was that I had to get a set of clothes and finding some going to be tricky; two, I only had one good arm, the other being wrapped in bandages.

_It's too late to change the plan now, Miller. It's now or never._

I slipped from my room and entered the hallway, trying to act as normal as possible, which was a hard thing to do with a hospital gown on. People walked around the hospital, each set on the various tasks they had been assigned. Parents went to visit children, children went to visit parents, while the nurses were the unseen, and seen, forces behind everything. I ducked my head as a nurse headed my way, pushing a cart that held doctor scrubs. I had just passed the women when another nurse approached her, asking the first nurse to help her with something. The two left the cart and headed to a room down the hall where you could hear a patient screaming in protest. I grabbed a pair of scrubs and slipped them on, a tasked which seemed pretty damn impossible with one arm.

I stood near the elevator, waiting for it to arrive to my floor, and couldn't help myself from tapping my foot. With a soft ding the elevator doors swished open and I stepped inside, pressing the lobby button. I stood there, wishing the door would close faster when one last person slipped in. I tried not to fidget, but the man in the suit made me nervous. I pressed the lobby button again, watching as it lit up and we began our decent. The man in the suit's phone started to ring and I watched as he fumbled through he pockets looking for the device.

"DiNozzo." He answered.

I watched as his smile faded and small frown start to take its place. "Wait…What?" he asked startled.

The voice on the other end didn't say much, just enough to ruffle this guy's feathers. "Okay, I'll have McGee put out an A.P.B. and see if that will help. She's couldn't have gotten far."

"Right, boss, I just don't understand; she came looking for you… Alright."

He snapped his phone shut and was about to slip it into his coat pocket, but remembered he had another call to make. Just as his jacket was about to resettle on his hip, I noticed the weapon concealed at his waist. I pressed myself against the wall, hoping he wouldn't notice me, but it seemed to grab his attention. He placed his phone to his ear, calling, what I assumed, was McGee.

"Visiting someone?" he asked.

I gave a small smile and nodded, "My mom: she had an accident at work. The doctors think she might have a concussion which means she has to stay overnight. She isn't too impressed with that."

"I hope you mother's okay… not yours, McGee," he scowled into his cell phone.

The elevator let out a soft ding as we arrived at the lobby. I turned to DiNozzo and gave him a small smile before exiting the compartment. He continued talking on the phone, unaware of me, as he exited the elevator. I couldn't help but smile and inwardly cheer at the fact that I had run into the man who was looking for me and he was completely unaware of it. My party was short lived, though, when someone grabbed my injured shoulder and spun me around. I let out a hiss of pain as I found myself face to face with DiNozzo.

"Kelly Miller?" he asked.

I gave me small smile in response: there was no use denying it. He probably had a picture of me to help him find me. Damn it. Why didn't I cover my hair?

"You're running because…" he questioned, trailing off, waiting for me to finish his sentence.

"I hate hospitals?"

"Really?" he asked, arching an eyebrow, "I don't think that's why."

I gave a small shrug, despite the fact that my injured shoulder screamed in protest. He noticed my grimace of pain as I moved my shoulder.

"You shouldn't be walking around. It's doctors' orders."

"I don't want to go back up, either."

"Why? What's wrong with your room?"

I bit my lip, wondering how much I should tell this… man. I didn't know whom he worked for, and I already risked so much trying to get to NCIS: was I willing to take another risk?

"I'm not going back up there. I'm going to succeed escaping next time and you won't know where to find me."

DiNozzo let out a weary sigh and pulled out his cell phone. I stood there watching him talk on the phone and started to notice the little things. Bags were starting to form under his eyes due to the lack of sleep and his shoulder looked stiff, as if he was holding the weight of the world on them.

"Hey, boss, I found her. Yeah, she never left the hospital." There was a slight pause. "She doesn't want to go back up to her room, says she'll try and escape again." Another pause. "I don't think handcuffing her to the bed would work. I was thinking we could bring her in and have Ducky take a look at her before anything happens." He paused again, a small smile growing on his face. "Right, I'll bring her up." He concluded, closing his phone.

"I told you-" I started, but was cut off by DiNozzo.

"That you're going to escape: I heard you the first time. We are going upstairs to your room to have the doctors look at you one more time before you leave. Does that suit you?"

I shook my head, panic rising to my face. "I can't go up at all: they'll find me. I can't go up," I said, backing away till I bumped into the wall. I couldn't stop the cry of pain that escaped my lips as my shoulder made contact with the wall. The world around me began to spin.

"Hey, are you okay?" DiNozzo asked, noticing that his ward was looking a bit out of it.

"I'm fine," I replied as I slumped forward. I was watching as the ground was coming up to meet me, when a pair of arms wrapped around my torso.

"Whoa, I think you need to go see the doctors."

"I can't go up," I mumbled.

"I don't care if you can't: that's the second time I've caught you, so you're going up there."

Together we made our way to the elevator with DiNozzo supporting me, making sure I didn't fall over or make a run for it. Ha, like I would run in my present condition. The doors closed with a whoosh and we were left alone. I tried standing on my own two feet but my legs just couldn't handle me. I leaned my head against the man holding me, despite my best efforts, and smiled as I heard his heart beat pick up. Just as I was about to address him, the doors opened, revealing a woman with a newborn baby and her husband. I smiled at the couple, remembering that, at one point, that could have been me.

"Going down?" the husband asked.

"No, sorry." Tony said as the door closed, leaving us alone.

We were stuck in silence, a silence that seemed to make the ride to my room that more agonizing. Silence always brought me back to M- no. I would not think of him. Not here, not now.

"How are you…" I said trailing off.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

"Alright, Anthony, how are you?" I said leaning against the wall.

"Fine."

"I highly doubt that."

"Why?" he asked, startled.

I fixed him with a look before continuing, "Really? You want to ask me that? Alright, for starters, you have bags forming under your eyes and your shoulders are hunched over like you're Atlas. You also haven't cracked a single joke since I met you and you really don't seem like the type of guy who is completely serious all the time. Have you been here all night?"

"Someone had to make sure you were okay. We didn't want anybody trying to kill you ,again."

"Wouldn't want that."

Anthony opened his mouth to say something as the elevator doors slid open revealing Agent Gibbs.

"Hey, boss, told you I found her," the younger Agent said with a smile.

Gibbs didn't say anything, he just stared at me with a look in his icy blue eyes I couldn't pinpoint.

"Agent Gibbs," I greeted, nodding.

"Your doctors waiting," was all he said before walking away.

"I'm not going back to my room," I disagreed, crossing my arms.

Tony let out a weary sigh as he massaged his temple, "Please, let the doctors check you out and then we will leave."

I looked at the exhausted man beside me and trudged toward my room, unimpressed, but willing to do what the Agent asked. I took a seat on the bed, waiting for the doctor to reappear and examine me so I could get out of here. I hoped he'd hurry: I didn't want to stay here longer than what was necessary. Getting a clean bill of health wasn't at the top of my to-do list. Neither was getting shot at, but you can't control somethings.

~/~/~/~/~

After an hour in the hospital of doctors checking me out and giving me prescriptions that would help me with the pain, I was finally home free. Or, rather, I was free to go, but only with NCIS. The doctors weren't keen on the idea of me leaving, but Gibbs reassured them that they would have the medical examiner look at me every day. That was better than lying in bed all day staring up at the ceiling counting the titles. Of course, there was the whole issue of NCIS wanting to talk to me. I don't think they were aware that I knew, which helped, but I didn't understand what they wanted to talk to me about: unless they had information about my father.

The ride to NCIS was awkward. I sat in the back, trying not to cry out in pain as my shoulder was bumped and jarred. Tony sat in the passenger seat, holding on for dear life as Gibbs drove like a mad man. To say it was a miserable ride would be an understatement: it was sheer and total hell. I bet we arrived to NCIS in record time.

We rode in the elevator in silence, or, at least, I did. Gibbs and Tony whispered between themselves, probably talking about the case. The doors opened with a soft ding and I followed the men into the room that I briefly remembered from my last visit. I walked toward the nearest chair and, before I could even sit down, I was grabbed by my good arm and hauled to my feet.

"You're going to follow me," Gibbs said, gesturing for me to start walking.

I didn't like where this was going, but I needed their help and if this was the only, so be it.

~/~/~/~/

I sat in interrogation, facing the double sided glass, wondering if this really was the only way to help my dad. My reflection stared back at me while people watched from the other side. They wanted me to fidget, to look guilty, like I was hiding something; but I wasn't guilty or hiding something. Unless you considered not telling the police that somebody had kidnapped my dad, a secret. I was the victim here!

I glanced at my right hand, watching as it tapped away on the metal table top: so much for not fidgeting.

I hope the two people I shot roasted in hell. I did kill them, which was a plus, so in a way I did kill someone. It wasn't murder, was it? I mean, it was all in self-defense. They shot at me. They chased me. They followed me. I shook my head, wincing as my shoulder was jerked.

The door flew open, causing me to jump. Agent Gibbs slammed a file down on the metal table before taking his seat across from me.

"Miss Miller, when was the last time you saw your father?"

"I told you: I saw him at home on Friday and the he called Monday telling me he'd be home for dinner."

"Did he show up?"

"No."

Agent Gibbs reached into the file, pulling out a stack of pictures, and he placed each one in front of me.

"Do you know this man?"

I glanced at the picture seeing a man looking up at me, his eyes closed: he looked like he could be sleeping. I slid the picture back toward Gibbs.

"No."

"He was Joshua Zimmerman; he worked for your father."

I glanced down at the picture again and saw it: Josh's defined cheek bones, his full lips and crooked nose that never quite healed properly after a bar fight a couple years ago.

How did I miss this? How did I not know it was Josh? Sweet, caring Josh?

I slowly brought my hand to my face, trying to choke back the sobs that threatened to escape my chest.

"I didn't kill him," I whispered, so silent that I'm sure Gibbs couldn't hear me, "I would never kill him."

"We found your print on the body. Explain that."

My gaze travelled to the picture. Josh looked like he was sleeping, but his skin was too pale, his lips too blue. Why Josh? Why you?

"I didn't kill him," I murmured, tears sliding down my face, "He just got caught up in the mess, whatever this mess is."

I was rambling, allowing my mouth to run away from me, as I often do when I'm stressed or nervous. I took a deep breath and continued.

"They told me… they'd kill my father if I talked to the authorities… I'm here now, aren't I?" I gave a shaky laugh.

Agent Gibbs stared at me, his icy blue eyes holding none of the warmth Josh's once held.

"Did you kill this man?" he asked a second time.

I shook my head.

"Then explain the fingerprint." He growled.

"They told me I had to move him, they said, if I didn't, they would kill my father. You guys have to find him."

"Who're they?"

"I don't know."

Gibbs slammed his fist in frustration. I couldn't stop myself from jumping when his fist made contact with the table. Tears continued to stream down my face, as my emotion became too much to bear.

"Who…are…they?" he snarled.

"I don't know, okay? They called me at my house, watch me through cameras located throughout my house: they are even positioned outside my house. They watch me, making sure I do what they ask. I didn't kill him." I sobbed.

I wrapped my hand around my torso, rocking back and forth, "I would never kill him."

Gibbs stood up and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I continued to beat myself up over Josh's death, over why he was dead and not me. I couldn't grasp it, not after what happened to me.

Sobs continued to rock my fragile frame, bursting from my chest like I hadn't cried in a while. I guess this was my way of finally mourning Marcus and now Josh. I deserved this. I deserved it all.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Tony

I met Gibbs outside interrogation after witnessing the whole ordeal between him and Kelly. I didn't understand why Gibbs was being so hard on her: she didn't know where her father was or who took him.

"You know she's innocent." I said, leaning against the wall.

"I do," came the brief response as he walked down the hall.

"Then why did you grill her like that?" I asked, falling two steps behind him.

"She knows more than she's letting on."

"I don't think so."

Gibbs stopped dead in his tracks, waiting for me to continue, to prove him wrong. What had I gotten myself into? Everyone knows that you don't call Gibbs out; you just tell him what you know and move on. Yet, I completely threw down the gauntlet.

I'm a dead man.

"She kept mentioning 'they' haveher father. Joshua Zimmerman was never the intended target. Mr. Miller was and Josh was in the way."

"DiNozzo," he growled.

Right, to the point. "What if 'they' are using Kelly to get her father to cooperate with them? The have camera's in her house; obviously, to keep tabs on what she's doing and who she is interacting with. Why else hasn't she called the police? She's scared they'll hurt her father."

"What do they want with Mr. Miller?" Gibbs challenged.

I opened my mouth and promptly closed it when I realized I didn't know what these people wanted with the Commander. What were they working on that they weren't allowed to talk to us about?

"Still working on that, Boss."

Gibbs started walking again, expecting McGee and Ziva to have more answers then I did: all I seemed to do was dig up questions, question that weren't bring us closer to helping the Commander. I let out a sigh and jogged after him, not wanting to miss a thing and, of course, wanting to help the case any way possible.

We strolled into the squad room to find both Ziva and McGee absent. I took a hesitant step back realizing we were down two agents and I didn't want to feel Gibbs' wrath since his two agents were MIA.

"Are you going to let Kelly go?"

Gibbs spun around, glaring at me at the thought for letting our only lead go. Stupid, why did you even ask such a question? Are you trying to piss the grizzly bear off? The answer: apparently.

"She's the only lead in this case and she can help us get to her father. Why would I let her go?" Gibbs asked, his voice taking on a hard edge.

"Because we don't have anything on her, so we can't keep her in interrogation. You should send someone down to make sure she has calmed down. You know she's blaming herself for the Petty Officer's death."

"Go watch her. Call me when she coherent."

I nodded my head and headed down toward interrogation, wondering why I was challenging Gibbs. I know I do it every once in a while, because I have my own gut feeling about a case, but lately I was just being stubborn. Ever since this case started, things have been too weird. The fact that I know the girl can't be a coincidence and that scared me. I scoffed at that idea. DiNozzo's are never scared; then why was I feeling like this case will be the death of me? I shook my head, trying to get the absurd idea from my head. This was my job, this was what I signed up for and I'd be damned if I let these people get away with what they'd done.

I stepped into the observation room and watched the woman who looked troubled. Kelly was still sitting in her chair, her face in her hand. A few tears slipped down her face, but she was no longer hysterical or rocking back and forth, which was good. She looked tired; her shoulders looked like they were sagging because of an invisible weight that was bringing her down until she could no longer stand it. Kelly looked like she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and forget the world; instead she was here, being questioned.

The door opened and Gibbs stepped in, taking a seat in front of Kelly. She didn't look up from the table, but swiped at her eyes, trying to hide the fact she was crying.

"Where were you that morning?"

"I was visiting my doctor. I was there all morning."

"Does this doctor have a name? A number?"

"Doctor Lindsey Nash."

"Her number?" he asked, pushing the notepad toward Kelly.

She glanced down at the blank paper, slowly picked up the pen, and scribbled the number down that would prove if she was innocent or not.

"You'll stay in NCIS while we check this out." Gibbs stood and was just about out the door when Kelly called him back.

"I just remembered something. This note was attached to Josh's… body," she said as she pulled out a folded up paper and handed it to Gibbs.

Gibbs glanced at the paper, nodded his head, and held the door open for her. Kelly walked out and followed Gibbs down the hall. I took the stairs and sat at my desk as the elevator doors opened; I busied myself on the computer and tried to look like the good senior field agent that I was. As Gibbs made his way toward us Ziva slipped into her chair and pretended to work.

"Where were you?" I mouthed.

She shook her head as just as Gibbs came into view.

"Ziva, watch Miss. Miller. DiNozzo with me."

I grabbed my backpack and SIG from my desk drawer and followed Gibbs to the elevator.

"Where are we going?"

"To talk to Kelly's doctor."

"Do you think she will tell us something?"

He gave me a look, instantly shutting me up as we headed toward the car.

~/~/~

We pulled up to the office building and parked the car before walking in. The Directory said she was on the first floor, so we didn't have far to go. We walked into the small waiting room, causing the secretary to glance up from painting her nails.

"How can I help you two?" she asked.

"We are here to see Doctor Nash." I replied, approaching the desk.

The woman, whose nametag said she was Jennifer Franklin, gave me a smile. "The doctors busy and you don't have an appointment."

"We aren't here for therapy." Gibbs said, flashing his badge.

Jennifer glanced at the intimidating man before her and quickly picked up the phone, dialing the good doctor. She mumbled a few things to the woman before hanging up and gave us another one of her smiles.

"Why don't you have a seat? She'll be with you in a minute."

I watched the woman from the corner of my eye and notice how she fluffed her hair and applied a little bit of lip gloss to her lips. Good lord, this woman thought she was the prettiest and most important thing on this planet, and, the funny thing was, she wasn't. At one point in time I would have tried to charm her and inflate her ego some more, but lately I haven't felt like flirting. I was bored of trying to get to know someone just for them to lie to you. I was done with lying.

I took a seat in the hard, metal chair with cushions that matched the drapes and tried my best to get comfortable. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a spot where I didn't feel like my butt would go numb before realizing it was a futile attempt, as no one could ever get comfortable in these chairs.

"What do you hope to find out from Doctor Nash?" I asked Gibbs.

"I'm checking her alibi."

"Right and I'm the Queen of England." I replied sarcastically,

Gibbs shot me look which caused me to rethink my comment. "You have something up your sleeve, Gibbs. You usually call to check the alibi: you don't come here in person."

Just then a woman in her mid-thirties walked in her auburn hair pulled back into a tight bun, making her look more like a librarian than a doctor. She wore a pair of wrinkle-free, black slacks and a nice cotton pressed, white blouse. From what I could tell, this woman was a neat-freak, a bit controlling, and ever the perfectionist. She hated stuff she couldn't control and loved having everything perfect. She hated imperfections and tried to help those who had them: probably why she became a therapist.

"Doctor Nash?" Gibbs asked rising.

"Yes, Agent…" the doctor answered trailing off.

"Gibbs and this is DiNozzo. Do you have somewhere we can talk?"

"My office: nobody is in there right now. Please, follow me."

We followed the doctor down a small hall and past multiple closed doors until we reached the door at the end of the hall. She opened the door, revealing a small closet sized room jammed with bookshelves full of books and filing cabinets. The desk was covered in books. It almost looked like the bookshelves threw-up on it: so much on my theory for her being a neat freak.

"Sorry about the mess: I have to do research on some of my patients," she explained, taking a seat behind the desk that was piled with textbooks and papers.

Gibbs and I took our seats across from Mrs. Nash and took out our notepads.

"Is one of your patients Kelly Miller?"

"Yes, she is. She's been seeing me for about a month now. Why? Is something wrong?"

"What can you tell me about Kelly, doctor?" Gibbs asked, ignoring the doctor's question.

"She's a sweet girl. She's been lost ever since she had trouble a month back and that's why she needed my help."

"What sort of trouble?" I asked, my curiosity spiking,

"You know I'm not allowed to go into my sessions without Kelly's consent. Doctor patient confidentiality prevents me from saying anything."

"Did you treat Kelly Monday morning?"

"Yes, I did. I remember because she didn't have an appointment and the secretary wouldn't allow her to see me. She's new and still hasn't gotten use to the idea that not all my patients need appointments and that most of them just walk in. Kelly stops by because she needs someone who can listen to her and give her advice. We just talk. She arrived at eight after having breakfast with her friend Megan and then left at ten. What's this all about, Agent Gibbs?"

"Do you think Kelly's capable of killing anyone?"

"No. She's stable and not a threat to herself or others," Doctor Nash explained.

"Meaning?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't think she could kill anyone," The doctor clarified, her voice taking on a hard edge.

"Does Kelly come here often?"

"Yes. She comes in ever Monday and Wednesday at six a.m. as that's when her father leaves for work. Lately, though, she's been seeing me more and more which can help some patients who need someone to lean on. Monday was nothing unusual. I won't answer any more questions until I know what's going on."

"We are investigating Kelly's alibi, making sure she was where she said she was and that she didn't kill anyone."

"You think Kelly-" The doctor paled at the thought.

"Thank you, doctor, for your time. We'll be in touch." Gibbs said, handing her his card.

"Yes, of course," she mumbled, her mind still occupied with the idea that her patient might be a murderer.

We left the building and got back into our car. What was wrong with Kelly that she needs to see a shrink almost every day? Is Kelly suicidal? The doctor says she's not, but even stable people have a breaking point.

"Do you think Kelly murdered the Petty Officer?" I asked.

I didn't think she did. I felt like she was at the wrong place at the wrong time and that 'they' were using her because of it. Though that may be the case, Gibbs' gut might tell him something else, something that we don't know.

"No, but someone wants us to believe she did."

"Why? It doesn't make any sense."

Gibbs was silent in response; even he didn't know the answer. Gibbs pulled out his phone just as it rang, and I couldn't help but stare at in disbelief.

"Gibbs…I'll be right there."

I glanced at Gibbs as he slammed on the gas wondering if that was McGee or Ziva who just called. I'd guess McGee.

"They found the scene where Kelly got shot."

~/~/~

We arrived at the deserted parking garage and found the party in full swing. Police tape was already around the crime scene as police made sure nobody contaminated the area. Gibbs and I left the car and flashed our badges before meeting up with Ziva and McGee who were busy snapping pictures and taking measurements. Two bodies lay on the pavement, pools of blood around them from where they fell. Ducky was examining them making sure the cause of death was the gun shot from Kelly's weapon which lay forgotten where she fell. The vehicle the two used to follow Kelly was punctured with bullet holes as it was used as a shield. One can only imagine that Kelly's car held the same about of damage.

"Looks like Kelly put up one hell of a fight," I pointed out.

"She took out both of them with a couple shots. Three shots to the man's chest before he could get a round off and, from what we gathered, she unloaded half a clip into the door before reloading. Kelly hid behind her door as the woman unloaded a full clip into the car." McGee explained as he snapped pictures.

"Kelly fired blindly at first and then emerged from behind her car and headed toward the woman. As Kelly fired, the woman fired also, which is the bullet in Kelly's shoulder," Ziva finished.

"You gathered all that from the crime scene?" I asked, mildly impressed.

"That and we talked to Kelly. Abby's running through her car now," McGee said.

"When you're done here, head back to the Commanders office and grab the Commanders car. DiNozzo, with me." Gibbs barked the orders to his two junior field agents before heading back toward the car.

"On you six, boss," I called as I followed him.

In this investigation to find the Commander, we have gathered, which isn't much, that some goons are after Kelly to help move matters along with her father. Who took them? No idea. Where's he being held? No clue. And the million dollar question: what do they want with him? In the time the Commander has been gone, there have been a total of three bodies, two wrecked cars, an injured woman, and more questions than answers.

I stepped into the car and glanced out the window, watching my colleges bagging and tagging evidence that might help the investigation. For Kelly's sake, I hope it did.


End file.
